“Stay as long as you want. Rick is coming to hunt a few quail.”
“I wish I could, but we have a house full of relatives and friends. As bad as I hate the attention, I need to be there, but I’ll take last night and this morning to help me get through the next few days. Maybe after that I can impose on you once again.”
“John, you are never an imposition. Let’s just get through these next few days, then we’ll deal with the days to come.”
“Jeff would want it that way. He loved coming out here. That’s why I bought him the shotgun, so we could come out and hunt.” John’s voice broke for a minute, until Buckshot nosed his hand and demanded a handshake. “You’re a good boy, Buck.” Satin barked, wanting out and away from her pups. John smiled. “Come on, Buck. Let momma and her babies out for a run.”
Ginger watched as John opened the gate and a herd of yellow labs came bouncing out, attacking his ankles and circling Buckshot. Buck was not enjoying the event as much as John was. He jumped onto a chair and barked at his offspring. Satin took advantage and took off for a romp and some free time. She was ready to wean them. It was time, and they were eating puppy food.
The pups soon discovered Ginger’s bare feet and the nibbling began. “Damn, their teeth are getting sharp.” Ginger jumped onto the chair with Buckshot. The pups began to explore and poop in the yard.
John laughed at all the commotion. “You had better get some shoes on while you have toes left.”
“I think you’re right.”
Ginger made a run for the door. Buckshot was close behind. The puppies were chasing after them. John was laughing.
* * *
Joe met Rick at his house. They loaded up Rick’s truck and headed for Ginger’s lake house. Rick noticed Joe had a different truck. He asked why, and Joe told him.
* * *
A horn honked, but Ginger and John stayed at the fire pit, drinking their coffee. The puppies ran to the gate, welcoming the new visitors. Buck was now on one of the patio tables and wasn’t moving. Satin entered the yard, closely followed by her pups, Rick, and Joe. Joe almost tripped over one. He wanted to kick it out of the way but laughed instead. Rick walked through without being fazed. He was used to the scene.
“Hey, I heard you had free labs. Where are they?” he joked, then went and shook hands with John Worthy. “John, good to see you. I’m sorry about your loss.”
“Thank you, Rick, I appreciate everything you are doing.”
“I guess you know Joe?”
“Joe, it’s good to see you. I didn’t know you were coming. I should have talked to you earlier but…”
Rick interrupted. “Joe needed a few hours away, just like you, John.”
The two shook hands, one man thinking the other had killed his son’s killer, the other knowing who had killed his son. Rick and Ginger observed.
John motioned for the new arrivals to sit down and have some coffee. “Please excuse Ginger. He has no manners, just dogs. But you know that, Rick.”
“At least you’re here, John.”
“Not only that, but I’m going to fix you boys some breakfast before you go wasting shells.”
“Aren’t you going to hunt?” Rick asked.
“No, I have to get back. I probably shouldn’t be here now, but like Joe, I needed to get away.” He smiled at Joe, who felt an unusual emotion: remorse. He shook it off.
“Ginger, while these boys drink some cowboy coffee and warm up, get me some eggs and sausage. Rick, we need more wood.”
Rick and Ginger followed their orders. Joe was taken back by the camaraderie. He had never been around such a thing.
“Can I do anything?”
“Just drink some coffee and keep me company.”
John opened the storage room and brought out a cast iron skillet, plus utensils. He loved these moments. He thought of Jeff and wished he were there. In these situations, he always felt closer to his son. At home, it was always pretentious to be barbequing. There was always a certain formality, even if it was just the three of them.
“So, Joe, do you like to hunt?”
“Truthfully, I’ve never hunted. I’m kind of nervous about the whole thing.”
“I have a 12-gauge here. It’s sweet. I’ll get it for you and we’ll have a few practice shots. You’ll do just fine.”
“Thanks a lot, John. I appreciate it. Maybe I won’t make a total fool of myself.”
“Hell, don’t worry about it. Now, Rick is a good shot, but Ginger couldn’t shoot his boot off, if he wore boots. However, don’t try to out-fish him. After breakfast we’ll go out for thirty minutes or so and you’ll be on top.”
Joe felt a connection with John Worthy. That could be very valuable in the future.
“John, I have to tell you, even though you are trying to help me, this is the strongest coffee I have ever had.” Both men laughed.
“Just drink up. It will put hair on your chest.”
“I think it just did.”
Ginger and Rick appeared at the same time. They both laughed and said, “Nice coffee, huh?” The remark was more for John than Joe.
John started breakfast. Satin jumped on the table with Buckshot. Ginger herded the pups back into their kennel. They soon curled into a large ball and went to sleep, fat bellies and all.
After breakfast, John took his shotgun from the house. He and Joe went to the back of the lake house.
Rick and Ginger compared notes.
“Well, Ginger, what have you come up with?”
“Women seem smitten with him and John apparently trusts him, but I still have my doubts. He only tells you what you want to hear.”
“He is smooth. He changed motels and sold his truck. To whom, we are trying to find out. It seems like a dead end.”
“Let’s just go about today as we always do. Act a little indifferent and just observe.” Ginger looked at Rick for approval.
“Sounds good to me. Dave will be here in a few hours. Maybe that will shake him up.”
John Worthy left, waving goodbye to two young friends he loved and one he thought would join his family of friends. He was a good man who loved the simple pleasures of life.
“Joe, you take the middle and we’ll flank you,” said Rick.
Ginger laughed. “Joe, you go straight ahead. I’ll be to your right, but I have no intentions of flanking you.” Joe stopped and bent over with laughter.
“Now, I’m getting paranoid.” He forgot reality, at least for a while.
“Stop, Buck is flushing out some birds,” Rick said.
“Okay, Rick, you do the flushing and the flanking,” said Ginger.
Everybody dropped to their knees. Buckshot was not amused, as a small covey of quail flew by. He was doing his job. They needed to do theirs. He ran over to more mesquites, then more. Finally, he spooked a few birds. Joe hit one, much to everyone’s surprise, especially his own. Buck fetched the bird and took it to Ginger.
“Well, I got the first one,” Ginger said.
“Joe, if we count by Ginger’s rules, we don’t have a chance.”
Joe laughed. He was really enjoying himself. He had no idea people could live like this. Maybe he could start a new life and forget his past transgressions. He had a peace of mind that he had never felt. Memories of Clyde Street had vanished, at least for a while.
Buck slowed down and started to slowly move toward his quarry.
“Joe, between me and you,” said Ginger. “Get ’em, Buck.” The yellow lab sent the birds into the air. Ginger fired first and nailed one. Joe followed instinctively and bagged one. Rick, not to be outdone, shot one. One more flashed up and Joe took it.
“God, Joe, what did John show you? He hasn’t shot that many quail in five years,” said Rick. Buck was retrieving as fast as he could, piling all the birds near Ginger.
“We shoot them, and Buckshot takes them to you,” Joe laughed.
“That means he has to clean them,” Rick said.
“Hey, Buck brought them up. He can clean them.
Buck! Time for a break. Let’s go have a drink.” Buck barked and jumped up in the air.
Rick shook his head. “Like father, like son.”
“Shut up, Uncle Rick.”
Ginger and Rick picked up one bird apiece and walked off, looking back at Joe picking up three. They laughed. Joe laughed. Buck ran home for some water.
Back on the patio, Joe and Rick fired up the pit, while Ginger made a pitcher of Bloody Marys.
“What kind of wood is this?” asked Joe.
“Mostly mesquite, some pecan and oak.”
“How can you tell?”
“Do I look like Paul Bunyan?” Rick threw a log at Joe.
Joe dodged the log and stacked some more near the pit. He wondered why he had never been exposed to this side of life. The old white-haired woman and her friend never even told him of such things. However, they would never have that problem again. He was not sad. He looked at the yellow pups jumping around, trying to get to Satin’s milk.
“Do you want a pup?” Rick asked.
“No, maybe a long time ago, but not now.” He turned away and walked to the fire.
Rick looked up at Ginger bringing the pitcher of Bloody Marys. He had heard the conversation. They looked at each other and certain feelings came over them: sadness, pity, a certain feeling of being lost, but more than anything, the reality of truth and the path they had to pursue.
CHAPTER 33
Dave followed Rick’s directions to Ginger’s lake house and drove through the open gate and up to the house. He was greeted by Buckshot, Satin, and several beer cans, haphazardly thrown in his direction.
“I hope you can shoot better than you can throw beer cans.”
“We’ve already slain more birds than you’ve ever seen,” said Rick.
“Beer is in the ice chest,” said Ginger.
Dave saw the puppies and his eyes lit up. Rick smiled at Ginger.
“These are the pups? They’re gorgeous,” He looked at Ginger for approval.
“Go ahead and pick one out, except the one with the blue collar. That’s Drummer’s.”
“Any one I want?”
“Any one you want. Go inside and take a look. In fact, let them out and take your time. Probably one will pick you.”
Rick shook his head. “If they don’t like you, we’ll send you to the fire department.”
“Thanks a lot, Sarge.”
The pups ran around, driving Buck and Satin on top of the table. Rick, Ginger, and Joe raised their legs and continued their drinking. Dave tried to watch each pup. Finally, he got a beer and joined the guys at their table.
The pups continued their adventures. Ginger opened the gate to the lake. The pups ran to the water, drinking, wading, splashing, and playing with each other. Satin went to the edge of the patio to keep a motherly watch. Buck followed and lay beside Satin.
Dave followed, as did Joe. They were both curious, but for different reasons. One for the future he looked forward to and the other for the past he was trying to forget. Nevertheless, the present was where they both were.
“Which pup would you take, Joe?”
Joe looked back in surprise. “You’re asking me? I don’t know anything about this kind of life. The only dogs I can remember were the ones that chased me on my bicycle.”
“Didn’t you ever have a dog?”
“Hell no. Even my bicycle sucked.” He laughed and walked back to the patio.
“Joe, let’s grab some beer and take the jeep out. Maybe you can plug a few more birds,” Ginger said.
“I’m ready to give it a try. You get the guns, I’ll get the beer.”
“I like your style, Joe. Rick, you clean some quail while Dave looks for a dog.”
“Thanks a lot, but I’m not cooking them.”
“And we thank you for that.”
“Let’s lock and load, Joe.”
Dave reported to Rick what little he knew. “He sold his pickup, which is probably now in Mexico, and he moved out of his motel room, so—”
“We don’t have jack shit.”
“Unless we find the truck, which isn’t too likely.”
“Let’s check the paint and body shops.”
“We’re on the job. Even in a hundred-mile radius. Monday we’ll check the tax office and see if anyone has registered such a vehicle.”
“That’s good. Also, see if there are any new requests for tags. He was driving a different truck.”
“Got you, Sarge.” Dave acknowledged the command.
“Which pup do you think I should get?”
“One of the yellow ones.”
“But they’re all yellow!”
Rick laughed.
“You’re real funny.”
“Do you want a male or female?”
“I think a female.”
“See the one on top of that big male?” Rick pointed.
“Yeah.”
“She looks a lot like her mom when she was a pup. I think I would choose her. She’s a good size and, in a few years, could have a nice litter herself.”
“What would I do with a litter of pups?”
“Sell them, Einstein.”
“Yeah, I could do that. Make a little extra money. Do you want to buy one?” Dave laughed.
“Let’s get drunk.”
“Aren’t you going to hunt?”
“Yeah, but not for birds.”
“Do you think Joe is involved?” questioned Dave.
“I’m not sure. There’s no proof.”
“He has a strange demeanor about him.”
“What do you mean?” asked Rick.
“Like something never clicked.” Dave looked toward the horizon of the lake. “Like he got lost at an early age and has never been able to find his way back.”
“Maybe you’re right, Dave. I want you to go hunting with him later. After he’s had a few drinks. Maybe he will reveal something.”
Joe and Ginger returned with five more quail.
“I hate Joe,” Ginger said, as he tossed the quail into a pail. “I see you have been busy cleaning our dinner.”
“I’m letting them marinate.”
“Marinate?”
“Haven’t you heard of stewing in your own juice?”
“So, how many did you get, Joe?” Dave asked.
“Three, but Ginger shot two.”
“Have a beer or two, then take me out, Joe. I want to shoot a few,” Dave insisted.
“Sure, Dave, whenever you’re ready.” Joe felt important. “There’s a great little place across the creek bed. Let’s go. I’m not rushing you, am I?”
“No, I’m ready.”
Rick shouted after them. “We’ll wait until you get back to clean the birds. It’s no use cleaning only a few when you great white hunters will be bringing in a whole mess.” He looked at Ginger. “Are you sure Drummer decided to come down?”
About that time, Drummer walked onto the back patio and went directly to the big male pup with the blue collar. “There’s my boy.” He picked him up and rubbed his fat belly. “Well, mommy has been feeding you well.” Buck and Satin both walked up to him. He patted them as always. “Satin, girl, I think we’ll name this big boy Rocky.”
“Oh, after the movie?”
“No. After the big rock I’m going to throw at your head.” Drummer walked to the table, grabbing a beer along the way. “Well, I can see you boys have cleaned the quail about as well as you clean fish.”
“Hey, we’ve been out in the wilderness stalking our prey, so you won’t go hungry,” said Ginger.
“Yeah, I’ve seen you stalk before. Now get busy and clean those birds while Rocky and I make some gravy and whatever else we can find. Is Bev coming out?”
“Nope, staying in the big city.”
“Mad, huh?”
“Yep!”
“Doesn’t surprise me. We still have to eat, so get busy.”
Ginger and Rick pouted but obeyed. They weren’t getting a free ride after all.
Rick, Ginger, Dave, and Joe sat around the fire pit, cooking the quail, while Drummer created the rest of the meal. Of course, he seasoned the quail and put them on the grill as well. Joe and Dave had each shot a quail, so they had more than enough. Drummer put Rocky back into the kennel to spend one last night with his brothers and sisters.
CHAPTER 34
Susan Cooper paced the floor of her small efficiency apartment. She coughed from too much smoking. She poured a glass of cheap whiskey and continued her pacing. She thought about her mother and the drive she must make to the funeral. She had little money, but maybe her inheritance would make it worthwhile. It wouldn’t be much, if anything. Susan had not talked to her mother in several years.
She hadn’t spoken to her son, either. She really didn’t know where he was, but then again, he had no idea she was in Houston. “All more was the pity.” She shook her head.
* * *
Davis Wilson rolled over in his sleep and felt the warm body of Cynita roll against him.
* * *
Pam rotated stock and made polite conversation with Dot. She didn’t mind working at Ginger’s, especially knowing Joe would be home tomorrow and he would be spending more time with her. She would cook a nice meal for them. A good meal sounded nice. She was a good cook and looked forward to creating a tasty dinner. She knew Joe needed one, as well as herself. She hadn’t eaten much for a while and felt like her ulcers were flaring up. She knew she should slack off on her drinking, but probably not for a while. Perhaps when Joe came back, and things calmed down, they could make a few plans.
* * *
Dave pulled into Ginger’s place. He was tired, but Rick had given a few orders, which he was happy to obey. He checked the floorboard to be sure his new female pup was warm and comfortable.
“Hey, Dave, want a beer?” Dot asked.
“Yeah, I got time for a few.”
“I thought you were going hunting with the guys and Joe, the hero?”
Pam’s attention was stolen.
“Yeah, I just got back into town, but I didn’t see Joe. Has he been in?”
“Haven’t seen him.”
“Give me a beer, and then I had better get home, before I end up single.”
Save the Child Page 17